


Coming To America

by TrashFoot



Category: Men's Hockey RPF, New York Rangers - Fandom, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Coming to America AU, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I know Mats is Norwegian but for this story he's not, I wrote this story for me but y’all can read it if you want, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25574551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashFoot/pseuds/TrashFoot
Summary: Henrik Lundqvist is the Prince of Sweden, and he has grown tired of the pampered life that comes with royalty. His 21st birthday comes with an arranged marriage to a woman he doesn’t know and doesn’t love. He and his best friend Mats Zuccarello decide to travel to America in an attempt to find the right fit for Henrik. (This story is based off of the movie “Coming to America” starring Eddie Murphy and Arsenio Hall, directed by John Landis. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)
Relationships: Henrik Lundqvist & Mats Zuccarello, Henrik Lundqvist/Reader
Kudos: 1





	1. The Prince and the Problem

**Author's Note:**

> The bold text is a direct quote from the movie.

“Good morning, Prince Henrik.” His eyes opened to one of the first people he saw every morning: a beautiful servant woman sent to gently wake him up. Rising out of bed and rubbing his eyes, he was led into his en-suite bathroom where more women were waiting to help him through the morning routine. He had to use the toilet first, and a male servant approached him to help.

“Please, no, I can handle this.”

“But, sir—” Henrik shot him a look of anger. “Okay. As you wish. I’ll be here if you need me.” As the servant took a large step back, Henrik rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh as he went to the bathroom. Once he was done, he was walked over to the sink as the male servant brushed his teeth for him, and then left the room to let Henrik be alone with the women. He was surrounded by them as they proceeded to disrobe him and lead him into the in-ground, larger-than-necessary bathtub in the middle of the room. He sighed again as they went through the motions of bathing him.

He was tired of this treatment. Living in a grand palace was fine enough. So was being the prince of Sweden. Even having the aid of servants wasn’t so bad, but after almost 21 years of not being allowed to do anything for himself made Henrik yearn for something more. Or, something less. Something simpler, even. Anything really, as long as Henrik could do something about it for himself.

After getting dressed for the day— with the help he deemed so unnecessary— he was finally able to have some time to himself as he meandered his way to the royal dining room, taking his time and enjoying the trip alone. He joined his parents, both sitting at the opposite head of a table that was more than perfect in a party situation. But this was no celebration. Just breakfast between King Peter and Queen Eva and their only son.

“Good morning, my son.” The King said loudly, making sure his son could hear him.

“Good morning father, mother.”

“So,” The King began, in an attempt to make conversation as they awaited their breakfast, “are you excited for your 21st birthday?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Are you excited for the wedding ceremony afterwards as well? _ ” That’s right. _ Henrik thought begrudgingly.  _ The wedding ceremony. _

“I guess...” Henrik replied, more to himself than his parents.

“What was that?” Henrik sighed and got up from his seat. He took a walk down to the opposite end of the table and sat, making the servants begin to fuss over the sudden and unexpected placement change. It was quite an unusual occurrence, him moving to sit close to his parents for breakfast. It even caused his parents to stir somewhat. “Ah. Well, hello son. It is, uh, very nice to see you... this close. It looks as though you’re growing out your beard.”

“Listen.” Henrik started. “In all honesty... I am not ready for this wedding ceremony.”

“Why not?” His father asks, his voice lined with both surprise and disappointment. “Do you have issue with the arrangement? I don’t see why you would, you have not even met the woman yet—”

“Yes. I  _ do _ have issue with it. The idea of a person being raised with the  _ sole _ purpose and the  _ sole _ intention of being my bride  _ still _ does not sit well with me.”

“I do not understand. Why not?”

**“When I marry, I want the woman to love me for** **_who_ ** **I am, not because of what I am.”**

**“And who are you?”**

**“I am a man who has never tied his own shoes.”**

**“Wrong! You are a** **_prince_ ** **who has never tied his own shoes. I tied my own shoes once. It is an overrated experience.”**

“Sweetheart, son,” the Queen cooed, settling the two men down as she spoke to her son, “look at your father and I. We had an arranged marriage and look how we turned out.”

“Yes. We grew to love each other.”

“But that is not what I want! I want a woman who loves me for me! Not someone who has been raised to love me!”

“But son, it is tradition.” The King said.

“Well it is a stupid tradition.” With that, he rose from the table in a huff, throwing his napkin on the table as he stormed out of the room.

* * *

“Thank you for meeting me here, Mats.”

“Of course. I’ve been excited to get on the ice since I woke up this morning.” Henrik had called on his best friend and servant to meet him in the palace’s ice rink after he had stormed out of breakfast. Together they sat on a bench, chatting as they laced up their skates.

“At least one of us has had a good day so far.”

“Yes, I heard about your...  _ discussion, _ with the King and Queen this morning.” Henrik rose from the bench and stepped out onto the ice, a hockey stick in tow. Mats quickly followed suit, tossing a puck onto the ice and pushing it along with him before passing it to the Prince.

“Do not beat around the bush, Mats; it was an outburst. And I am  _ still _ mad at them.”

“How come?”

“They want me to live by tradition.”

“What’s so wrong with tradition? It comes with living in a palace surrounded by beautiful servants who wait on you hand and foot, and all the food and money you could dream of.”

“Yes, but I have explained to them that I do not want an arranged marriage. I want someone who loves me for  _ me _ . Someone who I  _ know _ , and can trust. A woman with grace, elegance, taste...  _ culture. _ ”

“Well, where are we going to find someone like that?” Mats asked. Henrik took a moment to think.

“Oh, I do not know. How about we just focus on the game.” Henrik said.

“What about England?” Mats asked not even a moment later.

“No.”

“France? Paris?”

“No, Mats. Just leave it alone.”

“I’ve heard the American city of Los Angeles has women like that.” Henrik didn’t answer, but was growing interested. “Well, what about other places? Like New York? There must be women like that there as well.” Henrik stopped. He began to think, forming an idea in his head.

“After this, let’s go to the Royal Library and use that big globe we always used to mess around with when we were younger to settle this.”

“Okay, sure.”

They spent another hour and a half on the ice before tiring themselves out. As they left the rink and headed towards the Royal Library, they bumped into a servant who was sent to inform them that lunch would be served in an hour, and the Prince’s presence was expected. After their interaction, they finally made it to the large library. It’s white walls were lined with elegant golden accents, a set of large regal tables, matching chairs, and the globe that they were searching for. After much debating, they had settled on America as a destination, but were stuck between cities: Los Angeles or New York? Henrik pulled out a coin and said,

“Heads, New York. Tails, Los Angeles.” He flipped it and let it fall to the parquet floor. After inspecting it, he told Mats: “New York it is.”

**“But where in New York can one find a woman with grace, elegance, taste, and culture?” Mats asked no one in particular. “A woman** **_suitable_ ** **for a** **_king?_ ** **”** Pulling out his phone, Henrik did a quick internet search of the city’s neighborhoods as Mats looked over his shoulder.

“Manhattan...”

“Brooklyn, no...”

“Staten Island...” Then, as they saw it, they simultaneously exclaimed:

**“Queens!”**

* * *

“Hello, Henrik.” His mother greeted him.

“Hello son.”

“Father, mother.”

“We are glad you decided to show,” King Peter started, “I wanted to tell you that we will be proceeding with the marriage process. You will be set to meet your future wife next week.”

“Oh, um, I cannot do that...” he said, quickly slurping a spoonful of the soup that had been placed in front of him.

“And why not?”

“Well, because, I... I am going on a trip. Uh, with Mats. To America.”

“Oh, honey... are you just nervous over all of this marriage business? Is that why you are acting out like this?” Queen Eva asked.

“Yeah, sure.” He answered quickly before sipping again, almost showing his nervousness.

“Fine. I will have you meet with her tomorrow then.” King Peter said. It felt like a stone dropped into Henrik’s stomach at the news, and despite his hunger, he didn’t know if he could continue eating. “After that I will allow you to go and vacation so you may release all of your anxieties.”

“Thank you, father.”

* * *

Henrik sat in a chair inside one of the more formal of the palace’s grand living rooms, fussing with his bowtie. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being dressed up, it was that the servant made the knot a little too tight. Suddenly a door opened, surprising him. He stood immediately.

“Prince Henrik,” a butler announced, “may I introduce, Miss Olivia Andersson.” After the two greeted each other properly and the butler made his way out, Henrik began his interrogation.

“Please, sit. So... what do you do for a living?”

“I work on becoming the perfect bride. Cooking, cleaning, household chores... the works.”

“Well, then... What do you do besides that? Like, for fun?”

“Whatever you like to do.”

“Okay... um. How about your favorite foods?”

“I like whatever you like.”

“Your favorite place to eat?”

“I like whatever you like.”

“Your favorite color?”

“Whatever you like.”

“Your dream destination vacation?!”

“Wherever you would like to go.”

“Argh!” Henrik let out a sound of frustration after becoming increasingly annoyed with his bride-to-be’s answers. She had no mind of her own, and practically no free will. “This is not what I wanted! This is exactly the  _ opposite _ of what I wanted!” Henrik then stormed out, leaving Olivia alone and slightly confused.


	2. The Big Rotten Apple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prince and Mats land in New York and begin their journey.

With the last piece of luggage finally collected from the airport’s carousel, Mats had one thing on his mind.

“Now what?” He asked of his friend.

“Simple. We get a place to live; an apartment.”

* * *

The remainder of the day was spent walking, exploring potential apartments, each one a little bit worse than the last. It was when the pair passed their fourth “apartment for rent” sign in southeast Queens that Henrik really saw the potential. Mats tried hard not to roll his eyes at this one, especially since he knows that what the prince says goes. Located above a barbershop on 101st Avenue in South Richmond Hill, apartment 3C was an absolute dump to say the very least. There were two bedrooms that were better suited as coat closets, and only one bathroom that was just as small. The water pressure was abysmal and there were roaches passing mice in the halls outside of the front door. Mats made a comment about how the apartment itself was the size of the smallest bathroom in the palace. Henrik told the landlord,

“We’ll take it. We can even pay the down payment and the first month’s rent upfront.” The landlord, a bigger, bald black man by the name of Sean, seemed very happy about this. After everything was settled, Henrik and Mats brought all their luggage up on their own, that in and of itself taking an hour. Once everything was in, Henrik insisted on going and meeting the business owners downstairs.

“Um, hello,” Henrik said hesitantly as he and Mats entered the barbershop. “We are new here and—”

“Hold on, hold on one second there, alright?” One of the men said. Both barbers in the shop were black as well. The one speaking to Henrik had a fade hairstyle, a small diamond earring in each ear, and a more pointed chin than the other man, who was sporting a mustache and a small Afro. “Actually, wait, you could help me out. See, my friend Akeem here thinks that the Giants have a chance at the Super Bowl this year, which they don’t!”

“No no no. You  _ see _ , my friend Semmi, the real thing is—”

“Oh hush, we got paying customers here.”

“Right, right, right. Now, did you two come in for a haircut or something? You got an appointment?”

“Ah, no, we just wanted to come down and introduce ourselves. My name is Henrik, and this is Mats.”

“Oh, alright. Nice accent you got. Where you from?”

“Sweden.”

“Good, good. Just got in?”

“Uh, yes, we did.”

“Well then, let me welcome you to the neighborhood. I was new here myself once, but that was all the way back in the ‘80s.” Akeem said with a belly laugh. “Y’know, there’s a local fashion show being held at the community center tomorrow night. It’s supposed to be a big deal. Maybe you two should come along with us!” Henrik gave Mats a big smile, and Mats gave a forced smile back.

“Why yes, that sounds lovely.”

“Great!” Semmi said.

“We’ll meet you two here tomorrow at 6 p.m. and then we’ll go straight over. Make sure to dress in your best! You don’t wanna disappoint the ladies, ahahaha!”

* * *

“I don’t know about this, Hank.” Mats said as they made their way up their first flight of stairs towards their apartment, his voice filled with concern for his friend.

“What’s there not to know? It’s a social event— a chance to meet women.”

“Yeah, but it’s a fashion show. Listen, I have slept with enough models to know that none of them will ever be fit for the type of woman that you are looking for.” Henrik rolled his eyes at his friend’s admission.

“Well, how about this: let’s get some of our things sorted out in our new place, get dressed, and go out to a bar or two before calling it a night. We can look for women there. Who knows, maybe we’ll strike it rich.” Mats raised his eyebrows in judgement towards his friend before letting a sigh escape his lips.

“Okay, Hank. Whatever you say. We did only just get here though...” He trailed off, his voice now filled with doubt. An hour later, they were walking back down the same flight of stairs as Henrik placed the key to their apartment in his pocket. He managed to get Mats excited for going to their “first American bar for our first American drink!” The two called it a night after a handful of drinks total at three separate bars. Three of the drinks were bought by two women and a man. Of all the women— and the one man— they came across during the night, whether they were too aggressive, too eager, or too lovelorn, they were all considered to be the wrong person. Needless to say, the two men found their way back to their new place disappointed and with barely more than a buzz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any bold text was a direct quote from the movie. (Tbh I'm just adding this down here just in case- from what it looks like, there's no bold text but I just like being safe about it.)


	3. A Change in the Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henrik and Mats experience their first full day in New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bold text is a direct quote from the movie. Y/F/N Y/L/N stands for ‘Your First Name’ ‘Your Last Name.’

As Henrik woke up, a smile graced his lips immediately. A feeling of joy quickly followed, leading him to jump out of bed. He made his way to the fire escape, wrapping his bathrobe around him to keep him warm in the New York winter.

**“Good morning, my neighbors!” Henrik shouted.**

**“Hey, fuck you!” A random person at street level shouted back.**

**“Yes! Yes! Fuck you, too!”** Henrik sucked in a breath of fresh air and took in the sight of the city before him before squeezing himself through the window on his way back inside. Not knowing what else to do with himself, he decided to wake up Mats. “Zucca... Hey, Zucca, wake up.”

“Mmm, no...” Mats groaned. “5 more minutes.”

“Mats, come on. Get up, I want to go do something. It’s our first _full day_ in America!”

“And it can start in 5 minutes. Have the servants bring breakfast in bed for me.” He waves Henrik off and pulled the pillow over his head. Henrik laughed.

“No, Mats, that’s not how it is working here. We have to go out and get our own food.”

“You mean we don’t even have any food here?” He asked, lifting his head, finally making eye contact with the prince. Henrik laughed again.

“No. We need to go out and get it— at least for right now.” Mats groaned in response.

“God... at least we don’t have a job to wake up for.”

“That’s it!” Henrik said excitedly. “I know what we will do: Today, we will look for a job!” Mats groaned once more.

“Can we at least get breakfast first?”

* * *

After hunting down a diner nearby and trying out a “traditional American breakfast” in Henrik’s words, the two men traveled throughout Queens in search of a job. They had hopes of stumbling into one much like they stumbled into their apartment, but no such luck. It was heading for 5:30 pm, and the two were about to go back into their apartment, but Henrik wanted to stop by the barbershop first. “We will be seeing them in 30 minutes anyway.” Henrik told Mats.

“Hey guys!” Akeem greeted them. “We’ll just be a few more minutes, why don’t you sit?” As Mats and the Prince sat down, Semmi took the opportunity to mutter something under his breath.

“LaMelo Ball will take the Knicks to the championships in a few minutes, I’ll tell you that much...”

“What was that, Semmi? Did you say something? Well c’mon now, don’t be shy, tell the rest of the class whatcha said.”

“I  _ said, _ ” Semmi spoke up, looking Akeem in the eye, “that when LaMelo Ball gets drafted, he will take the Knicks to the championships.”

“Ooohhh, okay, okay. And Cole Anthony won’t?”

“No! He’ll be too busy keeping that bench warmed up for their star players!” Mats and Henrik looked at each other, and then back at the two men arguing with each other. They continued to do so for almost 20 more minutes before they finally agreed to disagree and led the group to the community center.

* * *

“And now, before the fashion show begins, we have a few announcements, the first one coming all the way from the world’s most famous arena: Madison Square Garden.” A woman made her way onto the stage, and Henrik’s jaw dropped. She was the most gorgeous woman Henrik had laid eyes on since he came to New York. Mats spotted Henrik’s jaw on the floor and elbowed him.

“Like what you see?” He whispered. Henrik didn’t have the time to respond before she began to speak, not that he could come up with any sort of normal sounding response anyway.

“Hello everyone, my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N and I’m here to discuss with you all, the perfect opportunity for any of you with daughters: to get them into the sport of hockey.” You continued to talk passionately about this program— the Junior Rangers Youth Hockey, you said it was— for a few more moments. Your excitement and passion for what you were talking about made Henrik’s face light up. “...inspiring your daughter to play— maybe one day she can even make it to the National Women’s Hockey League and become a Metropolitan Riveter! Alright that’s my time— thank you!”

Before he knew it, his crush was gone. He leaned over to Mats, whispering in his ear,

“That was her.  _ She _ is my future bride. I want to go see her—” Mats grabbed the Prince’s arm as he stood, pulling him back down into his seat.

“Maybe tomorrow we can check out this square garden, say hi to the girl, and bring her back home. But for now, let’s sit and enjoy the fashion show; I would like to see if I can find myself a bride as well.”


	4. Madison's Square Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prince is out in search of his queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bold text is a direct quote from the movie. Y/N means 'Your Name,' and Y/L/N means 'Your Last Name.'

“Excuse me, sir, do you know where Madison’s Square Garden is?” The man simply walked past Henrik, not even acknowledging him.

“Rude,” Mats commented, shooting daggers at the man.

“Excuse me, hi,” a heavyset woman approached them without hesitation, “you two are looking for MSG, right? Madison Square Garden?”

“Yes, do you know where it is?”

“Yes. It’s in Manhattan. Just get on the subway over there,” she pointed to a set of stairs leading underground, “and take the A train towards Manhattan all the way to the 34 Street—Penn Station stop. Then it should be right there, smacking ya right in the face.”

“Thank you! Thank you so very much!”

“You’re welcome! Fair warning though, it’s about an hour long ride.”

“What we will be doing will be worth the wait! Thank you!”

* * *

The elevator dinged and let the pair off on the 30th floor of 2 Pennsylvania Plaza. After making it all the way to the world’s most famous arena, they claimed themselves as interns to the first receptionist that they saw, and were redirected to 2 Pennsylvania Plaza by a nearby eavesdropping security guard who mentioned that they may be a bit more useful over there.

The hallway quickly opened up to the carpeted waiting room, and as Mats made themselves known to the receptionist behind her desk, Henrik took a look around. It was as run-of-the-mill as one would get with a waiting room; a potted plant in one corner, a few hooks on the wall for hanging coats, a few chairs and magazine covered end tables placed throughout. The most modern aspect of the room was the floor-to-ceiling window that acted as a wall to somebody’s empty office. The woman Henrik assumed used the office walked in and sat down behind her desk with some papers in hand. Henrik’s jaw dropped. It was you.

“Oh, Fletcher!” The receptionist called out to an older man passing through. “These two say that they’re interns?”

“Ah! Oh, yes, interns!” He said with surprise. “I wasn’t expecting two of you. Actually, I wasn’t expecting even one intern until next month. I ought to look at my calendar a little closer next time, I guess...” he trailed off. “Anyways, I’m Mr. Y/L/N, but please, call me Fletcher. I  _ am _ glad that you two are here! We’re desperate for your help around here. Now what are your names?”

“Ah, Henrik, and Mats—” Henrik answered.

“Is that an accent I detect?”

“Yes, we are Swedish, coming from the Rosen—” Mats starts, but Henrik interrupted him with an elbow to the ribs.

“The University in Stockholm. We’re in the international program here in New York.”

“Oh? At which college?”

“The University... in... New York?” A beat of silence followed Henrik’s answer.

“Ah! NYU. Good place, very good. You know, one of my employees graduated from there recently. Well, again, I’m glad to have you two here. Here, let me introduce you to some of the people around here, starting with my lovely daughter. She works over in this office,” Fletcher pointed through the glass wall. “Y/N!” Your head shot up at your name being called, and you poked your head around the doorway.

“Yes, dad— I mean—” You came all the way out and stood by your dad’s side.

“Oh, no need to worry about that right now. Y/N, this is Henrik and Mats.”

“Hello.” You say with a smile and a little wave. Henrik looks dumbfounded, and now it’s Mats’ turn to elbow his friend in the ribs.

“Hello.” Mats says for the pair.

“Now, Y/N, honey, where’s that rich, wonderful boyfriend of yours?”

“B... boyfriend?” Henrik quietly asked himself.

“Um, I think he’s off making copies...”

“Ah! There he is!” Fletcher noticed the man walking down the hallway behind Y/N. “Derrick! Get over here, I have some boys I’d like you to meet!” Mats gave him a side eye at the term ‘boys.’ Derrick had a slicked back undercut, and was sporting a nice suit. The way he was dressed put the button down shirt and slacks Mats and Henrik were both wearing to shame. Despite the ‘We’re poorer than we actually are’ look they were purposefully going for, Henrik was not entirely happy with how things were looking.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“This is Henrik and Mats. They share something in common with you: they’re NYU alum, well, they will be at least. But for the moment they are both just poor college students.”

“Oh, wow. You know I got my BBA in accounting there. Yeah, I’m probably gonna get my masters in it too so I can get a better job, but I don’t know just yet. Maybe when me and my chick over here get married or something I’ll do it.”

“Derrick, I told you, I don’t like being called ‘your chick.’ It makes me feel like I’m nothing more than some...  _ animal. _ ”

“Oh pfft, come off it, Y/N—” Derrick says.

“Please you two, we don’t need to be witnesses to a lover’s quarrel. Now, Mats, Henrik, come with me, I wanna to continue the tour. Now, I’m sure that since neither of you have much money, you two will be needing some lunch tickets for the  café downstairs...” As they all walked together down the hall, Henrik couldn’t help but look back at you.

* * *

Being an intern was a lot of petty work, as Henrik found out over the course of his first week. Things he expected his servants to do, he was now doing. He loved it. Mats on the other hand, not so much. Their supervisor, to Mats’ chagrin, kept assuming that the pair were just poor college students. Henrik was good about brushing his comments off.

Henrik figured out both the coffee machine and the copier after being introduced to how they work and a test run or two. Mats had more than a few issues with both. Henrik was told on various occasions to pick up various breakfast, lunch, and “outside coffee” orders from nearby locations, as Mats was placed in charge of picking up packages and lunches delivered to the lobby of the building.

At the beginning of their 2nd week, they had been given a few more responsibilities in the forms of running documents and messages back and forth, sorting out papers, and the mind-numbing task of entering data from paperwork into the computers. As he learned the new systems— systems that were new to him, at least— Henrik used every excuse he could as an attempt to spend more time with you. He’d go into your office claiming he thought he messed up some data entry when in reality he very much knew he didn’t, or would forget a piece of paper in your office.

Halfway through the following week, you had felt like you had gotten to know Henrik well enough to divulge some information to him as he sorted out some paperwork from a few files for you in your office.

“Y’know, Henrik, I might start hunting around for another job.” Henrik felt his chest tighten at the news. He felt fear at first, then grand ideas of you traveling to Sweden and finding a job closer to home— his home— flooded his brain.

“Why? You do not like it here?”

“My dad has been a controlling penny pincher all my life, the last place I need to deal with that is at work.“

“I know how you feel. My father can be quite controlling as well.” You and Henrik locked eyes for a brief moment before you continued to ask,

“So... I’ve been meaning to ask you, **why did you come here?”**

**“To find something special.” Henrik said.**

**“It's a long way to travel.”**

**“No journey is too great when one finds what he seeks.”**

“What’s life like back in Sweden?”

“Oh, well, I do not come from much. My father is a Shepard for a farm and my mother helps farm potatoes for the same place. With that being said, I am barely scraping by trying to pay for college.”

“But I thought college was free in Sweden?”

“Well, yes, we don’t have tuition, but we still have to pay for things like books and supplies. I am very lucky to have gotten into the International Program.”

“And what about Mats?”

“Oh, he is my roommate during the program.”

“Well that must be nice. I’m sure you miss home, though.”

“Not really. You are certainly helping make things better.” He told you, making your face heat up.

“You know, Henrik,” you said after a quiet moment, “there’s this party that we’re having at my house. I’d like to see you there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Mats and I both can come?”

“The more the merrier.”

“You can count on us to be there.”

“Great!”


	5. Party Pooper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henrik and Mats find out that their party invitation wasn’t all that it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bold text is a direct quote from the movie.

Mats stood behind a table that had been draped in a white cloth Fletcher had most likely bought somewhere for cheap, as he mixed together his second sangria of the night for the party-goer in front of him. He was dressed in the uniform the caterers had wanted him to be in, as was Henrik, who was busy passing out cheese, crackers, and grapes to people who looked down their noses at him. Fletcher ended up explaining to them at the end of the the same work day where you had invited them, that he was happy to hear the news they were coming; the caterers he had hired threatened to pull out of the party if they couldn’t find an extra set of hands and a bartender to help them out.

Henrik had been treated like crap all night by a few of the more stuck up attendees. It was mostly a lot of talking down to, some guy calling him “boy,” and people snapping their fingers for his attention. Even Mats was getting mistreated; a woman threw a drink in his face: the same one he had just served her a few minutes before and began yelling at him, accusing him of cheating on Elizabeth, whoever that was. Luckily her friends calmed her down and she later apologized... kind of. Henrik still found something to be happy about, being considered one of “the help,” getting to know life as a regular person and not royalty. Other people were not serving him, he was getting to serve other people. He was happy about life in servitude, until he overheard Derrick speaking to Fletcher.

“Fletcher, I made Y/N mad earlier because I... um, what was it she was yelling at me about? She was yelling about a couple things, but I told her to be quiet and she just, I dunno, stormed out and hasn’t returned any of my texts or calls since.  _ But, _ I think I found a way to make it up to her.” He pulled out a little black box and showed Fletcher the ring inside of it; Henrik wondered where he got such a dinky looking ring. From the look of it, it was a half carat diamond, tops. He wondered why he’d get such a poor quality ring, since he’s always bragging about his family’s money. “She’d like a diamond ring, right?“

“Oh, Derrick— d’you think she’d say yes?” Fletcher interrupted.

“Well— I— she’s gonna, uh—”

“Congratulations! Hey everyone, I’ve got an announcement to make. My daughter is now engaged!”

“Wait— I am?!” You yelled out at your father. “And when was I gonna be let in on this plan of yours?”

“Well, you’re hearing about it now, honey. You were just about to propose anyways, weren’t you, Derrick?”

“Yeah, ‘cause—”

“See? It was gonna happen! Aren’t you happy Derrick will be joining our little family with all of his money?”

“Is that all that matters to you? Money? And— and... controlling my life? Making sure I’m marrying someone for money and not love?”

“No, honey, that’s not—”

“Clearly it is, dad! What if I don’t  _ wanna _ get married to him?”

“Well, do you?”

“Yeah, do you?” Derrick asked as well.

“Me? Get married to the world’s most narcissistic accountant? No way. I’m outta here. Goodbye.” You stormed off, out through the sliding glass doors that lead to the side yard. Realizing you had nowhere to go since your car was blocked in by some of the cars of the other party-goers, you took a seat on one of the two swings on your childhood swing set that Fletcher never bothered to take down. Henrik quietly followed suit, plate of hors d'oeuvres in hand, grabbing the jacket he came with out of the coat closet just before Mats very quickly and suspiciously slipped past him. As under the radar as he could, Henrik walked over to you and slipped the jacket on your shoulders with his free hand.

“Cheese and crackers?” He asked.

**“No thanks.” He was just about to return back inside before you stopped him. “Wait. Sit down and keep me company.”** He gently placed the serving platter on the ground and sat in the free swing next to you. He was nervous, and you noticed immediately. “You can relax, it’s just me.” Henrik took a breath and rolled his shoulders. “Am I really that intimidating?” You asked jokingly.

“No,” he replied with a giggle. “I’m just a little tense this evening.”

“Well, after my little outburst, I guess I could say that I am too. It’s just...” you sighed before continuing,  **“I’m not gonna be pressured into marriage. Not by Derrick, my father, or anybody.”**

**“I understand completely. In my country, they arrange many marriages and I do not feel that anyone should get married out of obligation.”**

**“You’re right. How could I even consider marrying a guy like Derrick?”**

**“I wondered the same thing.”**

**“They just made me so furious back there. You don’t think I over reacted, did you?”**

**“I think that the first reaction is usually the correct one.”**

**“You know, you’re very easy to talk to. I feel like I could tell you anything.” You and Henrik locked eyes, before the head caterer popped her head out and interrupted.**

“Hey, new guy, we need you back in here to help pack up.”

“I guess that’s my cue.” Henrik joked. “I should go anyway and make sure that Mats is not causing any trouble.” You let out a giggle. After searching for Mats almost everywhere, someone let out a yelp after opening the coat closet. Henrik ran over only to find Mats wearing a big, smug grin on his face and holding a bottle of beer in his hand as he was found with the same woman who had thrown her drink in his face earlier in the evening.


	6. The King Has Arrived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the party fiasco, you and Henrik begin dating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bold text is a direct quote from the movie. After the party fiasco, you and Henrik had begun dating.

“I’m sure Mats will appreciate the candy bar that you got him.” You told Henrik as you two walked up the final flight of stairs that led to his apartment. Mats had called out sick from work today; apparently he had been sneaking drinks the night before at the party and was hungover. Not only that, but Mats was full of complaints again that morning about “living in such meager conditions” and missing his access to the servants. On his way out the door, Henrik waved Mats’ complaints off and told him if he doesn’t like the apartment that much, he should make it more comfortable for himself.

Meanwhile, Henrik got the chance to check in on you over lunch at work today. You told him you were doing better after officially declaring you and Derrick over, but the food you were eating might reverse that— you decided to try out something new for lunch other than your usual takeout place at McDowell’s down the street, and it was not working out. He took his shot and offered to cook you a homemade dinner tonight, which you accepted. After you both clocked out, he mentioned that he had to stop by the store and pick up a few things, which you were happy to help with.

“Yes, I think so too. Alright, here we are. Excuse me for a moment, I just want to check in on Mats.“

“Okay. I’ll be out here.” Henrik poked his head into the apartment.

“Hey, Hank.” Henrik’s eyes bulged out of his skull as he looked in. There was Mats, sitting in a jacuzzi in the middle of the front room with the girl he was caught kissing in the closet the night before. The jacuzzi made the small room feel even smaller. He turned back to you with a big smile and said,

“Excuse me one more moment.”

“Sure, take your time.” Henrik slipped into the room quickly and slammed the door shut a little harder than he felt he should have. He then began his tirade:

“Mats, what  _ the hell _ are you doing?”

“I told you this morning, I am tired of living like a poor man, and then you gave me permission to change things. Besides,” he looked over at his date and back to Henrik, speaking to him like he had a secret,  _ “min dejt här tycker att jag är kunglig.” _

“Men det är du inte. Du kan få din rumpa sparkad av kungligheter om du vill.” Henrik spoke through gritted teeth. Mats simply scoffed at his friend’s threat. “Y/N är här och jag försöker se till att hon inte räkna ut att jag är kungligheter.”

“Gå nån annanstans då.”

“Fine.” Henrik replied. “But I am confiscating the rest of our money,  _ plus _ your pocket money, so that you may not use it for anymore poor decisions.” Grabbing the stack of cash off of the end table near the doorway and pulling whatever money Mats had in his wallet, he placed it in his coat pocket before rejoining you out in the hallway.

“Is everything alright?”

“Uh, yes and no.” Henrik replied uncomfortably. “Mats is uh... still not feeling very well. We should probably go and get food somewhere else.”

“Oh. Okay...” You said, disappointed. The two of you ended up taking a ‘shortcut’ through Hunter's Point South Park, and as you did, Henrik subtlety handed all of the spare money off to a pair of homeless men who were walking past you two on the sidewalk.

“Hey, Henrik,” you said, stopping suddenly and looking out over the railing by the water’s edge.

“Yes?”

“Isn’t that a beautiful view of the city?”

“Yes, it is. But... I have my sights on something  _ much _ more beautiful.” You looked at him to see what he was looking at, only to find that he was looking at you. “Did I mention how gorgeous you look tonight?” You felt heat creep up your face and touch your ears.

“No, not yet.” Henrik gently placed a hand on the side of your face,

“Well you are. You always are.” He told you as he leaned in and placed his lips on yours.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Henrik, Mats took the time while Henrik was out to finish up his date and proceed to send a telegraph over iTelegraph to King Peter, asking him for more money. Two hours after the telegraph successfully sent, Henrik walked through the front door with the landlord in tow.

“Now, Mr. Sean—”

“I told you dude, just call me Sean.” Sean took a look around the apartment and his jaw dropped at the sight of the jacuzzi, a large 4K flat screen sitting in plain sight of the jacuzzi, and other nice, expensive things. Amongst all of the nice, new things, was a plaque showing Henrik’s ‘intern of the month’ status given to him for his happy attitude towards his work.

“Alright, Sean, as I was saying, I am unhappy with my apartment.”

“You’re  _ unhappy _ with  _ this? _ ”

“Yes. I would like a different apartment. One that is more... dismal. A... um... a dump, if you will.”

“Take my apartment, man. We’ll switch.”

“But is it a dump?”

“Yeah. Real shithole.” Sean dropped his keys into Henrik’s hands as he continued taking in the sight before him. “Apartment 1A. Downstairs. First door on the right once you walk in.”

“Alright. Well, thank you, Sean. Mats, come on, let’s go check out our new apartment.”

* * *

The following evening, there was a knock on the door for apartment 3C.

“Come in!” Sean shouted. King Peter and Queen Eva entered, being closely followed by the Royal Advisor and 3 female servants. They all laid eyes on a large black man sitting in a jacuzzi with a cigar in his mouth.

“Excuse me, I am looking for my son, Prince Henrik. Where is he?”

“He moved.”

“Where?”

“Downstairs. Apartment 1A.” King Peter anxiously looked around the room. He traveled over to the plaque sitting on the wall with Henrik’s photo on it.

“What is this?”

“Looks like an ‘employee of the month’ plaque from the dude’s job. I think he works at MSG.”

“My son has a job?!” King Peter exclaimed, his eyes bulging out of his skull.

“Oh my...” Queen Eva said, looking at her husband. The pair rushed out of the apartment with barely more than another word, and made their way down to apartment 1A. A moment after they knocked, Mats opened the door, screamed in surprise at the sight in front of him, and quickly went to shut the door. King Peter’s hand stopped the door from fully closing, and he pushed it open so that Mats may face them.

“Oh, your Majesty— Your Highness— it’s you! What are you doing here?” He asked with nervous laughter.

“We got your telegram. Where is Prince Henrik?”

“He is not here, uh, he is— he is, uh—”

“Tell us the truth, Mats.” Queen Eva said accusingly. Mats dropped his head.

“He is on a date with our boss’ daughter, I don’t really know where.”

“Your one job was to look after Henrik!” He took a moment to calm down. **“Well, you have disgraced yourself, Mats, and you must be punished.” King Peter turned to the Royal Advisor. “You will confine yourself to our royal suite at the Waldorf-Astoria with the Advisor.” He then turned to the servants. “And see that he puts on some decent attire.** **_And_ ** **I want you to bathe him** **_thoroughly._ ** **” Mats, realizing he will no longer have to live in squalor, exclaimed:**

**“Oh, thank you, Your Majesty!”**

**“Now, do not alert Henrik to my presence. I shall deal with him myself.”**

During the time he was being escorted to the hotel, Mats sent out an emergency text to Henrik, informing him that his parents had arrived in America. Meanwhile, after some asking around, the King, the Queen, and the Royal Advisor located the MSG that the landlord had mentioned, and was pointed in the direction where Henrik actually worked after a security guard had an employee bring up his information. He got off at the 30th floor and approached the receptionist. She quickly got Fletcher, informing him that Henrik’s parents were here and had some questions.

**“What can I do for you?”**

**“This is King Peter, ruler of Sweden.” The Royal Advisor told Fletcher. “He is searching for his son, Henrik.”**

**“Your son?”**

**“Yes, my son, the prince.”**

**“The prince? Are you serious?”**

**“Prince Henrik is the sole heir to the throne of Sweden.” The Royal Advisor informed him.**

**“I always knew there was something special about that boy.” Fletcher said.** “You know, he is dating my daughter. Maybe they are at my home. Let’s go there, shall we?”

* * *

You and Henrik had just walked out of the movie theater when he felt his phone in his pocket vibrate.

“Please excuse me for one second.” He said, stopping off to the side of the sidewalk.

“Sure.”

“Oh sh— oh no,” He quickly corrected himself.

“What?”

“Um, something has come up. Can we go somewhere?”

“Well, where did you have in mind?”

“Anywhere; your house, even.” He said quickly in desperation.

“Okay,” you said, looking at him strangely. “I’ll get us an Uber.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't feel like looking it up:   
> “min dejt här tycker att jag är kunglig.” Means “my date here thinks that I am royalty.”   
> And “Men det är du inte. Du kan få din rumpa sparkad av kungligheter om du vill. ... Y/N är här och jag försöker se till att hon inte räkna ut att jag är kungligheter.” means “But you are not. You can get your butt kicked by royalty if you want. ... Y/N is here and I am trying to make sure she does not figure out that I am royalty.”  
> And “Gå nån annanstans då.” means “Then go somewhere else.”


	7. The Big Break Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You discover the truth about Henrik.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bold text is a direct quote from the movie. Y/L/N means 'Your Last Name.'

“You know, funny story, actually,” Fletcher let out a laugh after he asked the royals and their entourage to sit on his couch so that they could wait for Henrik comfortably, “I had it in my head that Henrik was just your run-of-the-mill poor college student so I was worried about how he could take care of my wonderful daughter, but now that I know he’s a prince! Oh, well, he must have a fantastic future ahead of him.” The King and Queen side-eyed to each other in judgement. Their discussion was interrupted when you and Henrik came strolling into the house. You two were quickly intercepted by Fletcher.

“Y/N! Can I see you for a moment?”

“S-sure, uh, why?”

“No reason. Henrik, go wait in there.” Fletcher told him, motioning towards the living room on his right where the party was mainly held. Fletcher brought you into the kitchen just to the left of the front hall. “I just wanted to tell you how much I  _ love _ Henrik.”

“What’s with the change of heart?” You said with some suspicion.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Dad.”

“What? Can a man not have a change of heart?”

“ _ Dad. _ ”

“I just, like him now, that’s all.”

“Dad!” You yelled out of frustration.

“Okay, fine! The guy is rich, honey! He’s loaded!”

“Wait, what d’you mean?”

“A prince! He’s a prince! His parents are even here! A real King and Queen!”

“He’s a... a what?” You asked in disbelief.

“Oh, honey, you hit the jackpot! Derrick has pennies compared to him!”

“Excuse me.” Feeling upset and betrayed that Henrik lied to you about who he was, you quietly went up to your room.

“Is everything okay?” Henrik asked as Fletcher walked into the living room.

“Ah, yes, Y/N just... needs a moment.”

“I demand to speak to her.” King Peter said.

“Father, no, what are you—”

“Let me handle this, my son.” Fletcher led the way to your room.

“Y/N, sweetheart, someone is here to see you;  _ the king of Sweden! _ ” Fletcher said excitedly.

“Leave us. Now.” King Peter demanded of him. Fletcher did just that, closing the door behind him. “I understand you and my son are an item.”

“We  _ were. _ ” You corrected him.

**“Then he must have told you about his wife in Sweden?”**

**“He’s married?” You asked in disbelief, becoming angrier with Henrik than you were before.**

**“No, but he will be soon. We have already chosen his bride. So you see... he cannot be at all serious about you. He came to America to... enjoy his last days of bachelor life.”**

**“Excuse me. I need to be alone for a moment.”** King Peter made his way back downstairs to rejoin his family and entourage, leaving you alone. In a moment of rushed judgment, you threw on a jacket and jogged down the stairs and announced that you had to go, and you were out the door and into the rain. Henrik stood from his spot on the couch, wanting to chase after you.

**“What'd you say to my daughter?” Fletcher asked immediately.**

**“I told her the truth. That Henrik could not be interested in her.”**

**“How can you be so sure?” Queen Eva asked of her husband.**

**“Oh, come now. Our son cannot consort with such a girl.”**

**“Hey, now wait a minute!” Fletcher interjected.**

**“Advisor.” Upon the King’s request, the Royal Advisor promptly brought a checkbook out of his jacket pocket.**

**“I know you have been inconvenienced and I am prepared to compensate you. Shall we say one million American dollars?” King Peter offered.**

**“No way.”**

**“Very well then, two million.”**

**“You haven't got enough money to buy my daughter off.”**

**“Nonsense!”**

**“Peter. Apologize to Mr. Y/L/N.” Queen Eva said.**

**“I will do no such thing. The man is beneath me and so is his daughter.”**

**“I don't give a damn who you are! This is America, Jack. Now, you say one more word about Y/N here and I'mma break my foot off in your royal ass!”**

**“Pardon me?”**

“You heard me!” A beat of silence occurred before King Peter continued.

**“We shall return to Sweden at once.”**

**“I will not leave without Y/N.” Henrik said.**

**“So you do care for her?” Asked the Queen.**

**“Mother,” Henrik turned to her and said seriously, “I love her.”**

**“Then go after her.”** **Henrik kissed his mother on the forehead and left.**

**“Henrik!” King Peter shouted after him. “Henrik! I forbid you!”**

**“Put a sock in it, Peter, the boy is in love.”**

* * *

Henrik didn’t know just when it started raining, and he didn’t care anyhow. He stood and watched as you headed towards the stairs that lead down to the subway at the end of the block.

“Y/N!” You heard him call after you, but you didn’t want to speak to him. The next thing you knew, Henrik had caught up with you just as you reached the bottom of the stairs. “Y/N, please, just listen to me.” Henrik begged. You continued through the turnstiles hoping to lose him, as your train miraculously pulled up just in time and you hopped on to the nearly full car. Unfortunately, Henrik was right on your heels after he simply hopped the turnstiles. “Y/N, please,” he begged one last time. You turned and faced him now, unable to run anymore.

“I don’t want to talk to you. We’re through.”

“But, Y/N, I... I love you.”

“Oh really? Do you love me like you love your wife back home?”

“I do not love her.”

“Is that so?” You asked sarcastically.

“Why do you think I came to America? I wanted to get away from her, from arranged marriages, and— and find you, someone I  _ do _ love.”

“Then why did you lie to me, Henrik? I thought you were just a normal guy. But... you’re way more than that, obviously.” After a beat of silence, you asked,  **“Why didn't you tell me you were a prince?”**

**“I wanted you to love me for who I am.”**

**“I don't know who you are.”**

“I am the same man you fell in love with; the same college student that you originally thought I was. Why should it matter if I am a college student or a prince?”

“I guess it doesn’t, but...”

**“Just tell me you didn’t love me when I was a simple college student, and I will never bother you again.” You rolled your eyes as you spent your time in thought.**

**“It just wouldn’t work out. We’re too different; you’re royalty for God’s sake!”**

**“Would you like me to renounce my throne? Because I will. Excuse me, everyone!” Henrik commanded the attention of the train car. “I hear-by renounce my throne! I am no longer the prince of Sweden! I renounce my throne!”**

“No, you can’t do that. You shouldn’t. Not for me.”

**“I do not care about my crown. All I care about is you. Marry me, Y/N.” The train came to a screeching halt at your stop as you thought over your answer.**

**“Look, I’m sorry, I can’t.” You told him.** You stepped off the train quickly, keeping your eyes forward, not wanting to look back at the man who’s heart you just broke. He got off the train as well, though traveling at a much slower pace than you. He sulked up to street level where he caught a cab back to your house to explain what happened, resigning himself to the arranged marriage. They travelled briefly back to the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel to get themselves ready for a flight back to Sweden.

As the Lundqvist’s and co. left in a motorcade, King Peter and Queen Eva sat in their own car as Henrik and Mats got in a separate car. With a moment to themselves, Eva took the time to reprimand her husband for clinging to outdated traditions instead of thinking of his son's happiness.

**“Even if she said yes, they still could not marry. It is against the tradition.”**

**“Well, it is a stupid tradition.”**

**“Who am I to change it?”**

**“I thought you were the King.”**


	8. The Royal Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henrik gets married, whether he likes it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bold text is a direct quote from the movie.

Henrik arrived at the end of the aisle looking rather doleful.

“Well, Prince, are you ready?” The priest asked.

“Do I have an option?” He asked, looking past the priest at his father and mother, sitting in their respective ceremonial thrones. Henrik felt a hand clasp his shoulder. He looked woefully over to his best man.

“Henrik, lighten up, this is supposed to be a joyous occasion.” Mats told him. Before he had a chance to respond, the music started up as Henrik’s heart sank. He kept his back to the veiled woman walking down the aisle. The walk felt like it took forever. Once she arrived, Henrik lifted her veil. Much to his surprise, it was you. He looked at his parents with a big smile on his face, and they smiled back, glad to see their son so happy with the special guest they had flown in for the wedding. He couldn’t help himself; he turned back to you, took your face in his hands, and kissed you deeply.

“Um, excuse me, prince?” The priest tried to interrupt. “We are not at that part of the ceremony yet.”

* * *

Leaving the church, Henrik helped you up into the horse-drawn carriage that awaited you two outside. Henrik adjusted the crown that was placed on your head after the ceremony; it matched his: white gold decorated with red rubies and blue sapphires. There was a fairly large crowd outside cheering you two on as you began the wedding procession.

**“Would you really have given up all of this just for me?” You asked Henrik, leaning in so he could hear you better.**

**“Of course. If you like, we can give it all up now.” You looked around at the crowds of people cheering for you and your new husband. You then looked at him and playfully said,**

**“Nah!”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short ending chapter, I know. In my defense, the wedding scene in the movie is short as well. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
